Belittled
by jervaulx
Summary: She hated her height—it gave her the disadvantage in this ridiculous game she and Ryotaro were playing, with his 5'9 male magnificence towering over her 5'4 frame. Totally unfair. A TsuchiMori Valentine story.


_disclaimer: I do not own Kin'iro no Corda_

**Belittled**

"Tsuchiura Ryotaro, hand over the envelope or else . . ."

"Or else what?"

"Or else I'll punch you in the gut."

"Try me."

She bit her lower lip, assessing the enemy. She was shorter and weaker compared to his lanky and bulky physique, she knew and he very well knew it himself. She could not risk getting hurt before delivering the letter, which is firmly secured—or unsecured, rather—in his hands at the moment. But if she wished to retrieve it back from him . . .

"Oof!"

"Ouch, ouch, ouch." Cradling and massaging her bruised hand on her chest, she glared menacingly at his abdominal region. "What do you have there, a metal board?"

He ignored the jibe. "You actually hit me," he said incredulous, then his attention focused on her hand with absolute concern. "Is that envelope really that important to you?"

"Yes." There was a certain edge on her tone which he recognized as annoyance but it softened in entreaty as she added, "Now could you please hand it over to me?"

His eyes sharpened, turning to slits in calculation and suspicion. Eventually he relaxed sensing no anomaly whatsoever then sighed in defeat. "Fine. Here." From his right pocket he extracted the pink, jasmine scented envelope—why did she not seize it? Oh right, she had no idea of its whereabouts, plus she's not a good pickpocketer—and presented it before her feasting eyes.

"Oh, thank you, Ryou-kun. You're a life saver," she declared delightedly, her arm outstretched ready to receive it. It was so close, she was so damn close and he just had to snatch it back away before she could even touch, raising his arm high enough by doing so.

The childish impulse to stump her feet on the ground in frustration was tempting especially when he threw back his head, laughing out loud, enjoying her indignant discomfort.

"You can stop now, Tsuchiura-kun," she admonished after a moment spent listening to his irritating laughter buzzing her ears. Although she would not admit it but she like hearing him laugh . . . sometimes.

Surprisingly he sobered, lowering his arm and placing his occupied hand behind him. His eyes were still twinkling with unshed laughing tears. A mockingly teasing touched his lips, an expression she was familiar of, and it matched his voice as he said, "So it's _Tsuchiura-kun_ now, _Manami_?"

There were certain things she hated about herself: one, her height—it gave her the disadvantage in this ridiculous game she and Ryotaro were playing, with his 5'9 male magnificence towering over her 5'4 frame; totally unfair; second, her complexion—porcelain white, others tend to call it pale, a contrast to his tan skin acquired after long hours spent under the sun. And yes, it was a disadvantage in her current disposition—she knew she was the color of today, Valentine's, and he always found satisfaction seeing her flustered.

She was flustered now and his sardonic grin had not gone unnoticed.

"That's so low. I'm not falling for that again," she murmured, more to herself than him. She willed her flushed cheeks to cool down, the heat on her face slowly receding in a spur of time. With that accomplished, she turned her head, carefully avoiding his gaze, cyan eyes shifting from left to right as she scanned the perimeter.

Ryotaro, alerted by the sudden change in her, could not help but ask: "What are you looking for?"

"A chair."

An expression akin to amusement flicked before his hazel eyes. They were, after all, standing amidst green scenery and closed music room windows with no furniture close by nor one living soul, the area abandoned for the time being. It was just him and her . . . alone together, having fun—or at least he was.

"In that case," said he urgently, clearing his throat for effect, "I'll take my time reading this while you search for your _chair_." He withdraw his hand, the envelope intact between his fingers, and with excruciating deliberateness opened the seal . . . unfolded the letter and . . .

A horrified shriek came from her direction when she realized what he intended to do. He paused then and glancing up almost stumbled back when Manami crushed into his chest. It distracted him, to say the least, but he was right on track seconds later, having to raise his arm again to keep the paper out of her flailing hands' reach. The whole length of her brushed along his intimately so as she tried in vain to get her fingers on it. They did not seem to notice, however, too preoccupied with the matter at hand.

"Why are you" —_jump_ —"so interested" —_hop—_"on this thing" —_jump—_"when it's not even" _—skip—_"mine!"

"That makes it the more interesting." He dodged her elbow. "So, who gave this to you?" He sounded casual and easy, unlike her who was already breathless with the extortion.

"None of your"—_slap_—"business."

"Oh? Come now, tell your boyfriend who."

As he predicted, she ignored him although she reddened, a sign that she'd heard him. It also halted her from scattering all over the place. "Why are you so tall?" she grumbled beneath her breath. "You should be as short as I am." Gripping his uniform, she stood on her toes, leaning towards him and stretching her arm as long as she could in another attempt to pry the envelope loose from his fingers. _And, Kami-sama, isn't she close!_

The temptation was there, his for the taking. Her lips were just an inch away from his and if he could only move . . . but alas, she took a step back, disentangling her fingers from his kerchief. She was out of breath and gasping for air, delicately wiping the beads of sweat forming and sliding down from her forehead.

"Giving up already?" he crooned once she'd regain her strength, shaking his head dramatically. He clucked his tongue, watching her watch him tucking their subject in his pocket.

She flashed him a look he did not recognize, one he was sure was trouble at its finest. "Of course not. I would hate losing to you, of all people," she replied, her voice somewhat husky. He quirked a brow, his suspicious persona tingled unexpectedly.

She sauntered towards him, her feet light on the ground. He braced himself then, his feet apart ready for any startling impact she might be planning and ready on guard just in case.

Her next move was a surprise, and indeed, a trouble at its finest. Instead of the bodily harm he'd expected, he felt both her arms slide around his neck, her eyelashes lowered to conceal her thoughts.

"You are such a bull sometimes, Ryou-kun. But you've proven to be quite challenge and as I said, I can't afford to lose."

She pulled his head down in level with hers and pressed her tantalizing lips to his, tender and sweet; soft and warm; innocent and inexperienced.

It lasted for less than half a minute—not that it matters to him anyway. When she pulled away, triumph danced in her merry cyan eyes. Managing to pluck the paper out from its hiding place with a gay "Thank you", Manami patted his head, like a pet, with a grateful smile then proceeded back to where she came from, smoothing the crumpled edges of the envelope all the while. She was undeterred as though she'd planned everything all along.

Left ruffled by the kiss, Ryotaro remained motionless, his head lolling dazedly as he thought about their private moments together, most of which were spent holding each other's hands and reveling on its warmth or playing the piano after school in one of many music rooms. It never bordered to kissing and he found the sensation quite—no, very nice and . . .

Ruefully he shook his head, clearing away unwanted thoughts. It was then that he realized the space before him empty, the blonde missing. He saw her strolling idly away, her back to him.

"What was that for?" he called out, referring to her surprise attack.

She fully twisted to look at him, winking and smiling sweetly, innocently. "Consider that my Valentine gift. I had not brought you anything, truth be told. _Your_ Manami apologizes."

He saluted; her apology accepted. He could never understand why she loathes her height; he adores it! And she'd put it to good use today and a pleasing one, that.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

Aoi Kaji witnessed everything, his narrowed emerald eyes centered upon Manami as she bowed and disappeared on the corner, leaving an idiotically grinning Ryotaro behind.

* * *

><p><strong>.<strong>

Author's Note  
><em>Deceptive Manami and teasing Ryotaro; quite a pair.<em>  
><em>Is it good? Bad? Sweet? A waste of time? Funny? <em>_Out of character?_  
><em>Tell me what you think ;)<br>You'll find out about the history of the letter and Aoi's involvement in the story on the end of the month, 29th of February._


End file.
